


Once more, Forever

by kuiske



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Angst, Grief/Mourning, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Supernatural Elements, dworin week on tumblr
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-04
Updated: 2015-07-04
Packaged: 2018-04-07 13:38:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4265184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kuiske/pseuds/kuiske
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Do you know what is said about ghosts?</p><p>(Dworin week day 5 - Supernatural)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Once more, Forever

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I'm not making profit with this. All rights to their respective owners.

They say there are no ghosts.

He comes to him every day like tiny cuts to the soul. _This is what he would’ve loved. He hated blackberries. This sword would’ve fit in his hand as if made for it (and it had been, an unconscious offering, come back to me and take it.) He would make another. And another. And another._ With ease he steps around the empty space next to him, runs his fingers against the shape of Thorin’s soul, makes room for the presence no one else can feel.

*

They say ghosts are cold to touch.

The phantom fingers on his skin are never cold. _This is where his hands brushed against mine. If the steel that recalls being shaped by his hands is sacred, then why not the flesh? It should be stripped off and made hallow, this skin that holds a part of Thorin forever where his teeth grazed against my hipbone._ The memory of his touch is an echo of fire. He reaches out without thinking, and for a moment catches a hand that is no longer there to take a hold of his.

*

They say ghosts are hideous to look upon. 

He comes to him in spring. (Thorin had so loved spring.) _This is where his blood had frozen in crimson diamonds around him. In spring they had melted and run in little rivers back to the Mountain their Maker had shaped him from. His soul had bled back into the stone, out of this time and back into eternity._ He comes to him cloaked in rubies, crowned in sapphires the shade of shadowed ice that stand out against his dark hair. 

Thorin comes to him moving like breath misting in the cold air, and it’s not a memory nor a dream.

*

Dwalin’s knees hit the ground. 

(One should kneel before his King.)

There is no fear. 

He’d had no cause to fear Thorin while he lived. 

Why should he be afraid of him in death?

*

The hand cupping Dwalin’s cheek is warm. (The familiar mouth pressing against his is searing hot.)

_“Am I still your King, then?”_  
_“You were always my King.”_  
_“Will you follow me? One last time.”_

The hand cupping Dwalin’s cheek is warm. (The blade held in the palm of that hand is colder than ice.)

*

When Thorin laughs his sparkling blue eyes hold all the joy of the days gone by.

Dwalin tilts his head up to bare his throat. 

Thorin offers him a hand and helps him stand. 

(A warrior should fall from his feet.)

Such beauty has never been seen in this world.


End file.
